---

They say memories are golden, well maybe that is true.
I never wanted memories, I only wanted you.

A million times I needed you, a million times I cried.
If love alone could have saved you, you never would have died.

In life I loved you dearly, In death I love you still.
In my heart you hold a place, no one could ever fill.

If tears could build a stairway, and heartache make a lane,
I’d walk the path to heaven, and bring you back again.

Our family chain is broken, and nothing seems the same.
But as God calls us one by one, the chain will link again.

– Author unknown –

---

My people are so precious, Lord, I know you think so too…
And I believe You put me here to love them just for You!
They take such gentle care of me and have such tender hearts…
Please use me, Lord, to comfort them whenever teardrops start.
They face a lot of battles as they live and work each day…

They need me Lord, to make them smile and show them how to play!
The world is full of people, but sometimes real friends are few….
Please let my love & loyalty remind them, Lord, of You.
And when my final moment comes, Lord, tell them as we part…
I was a made-to-order gift from Your great, loving heart!

– Author unknown –

---

Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush,
of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the stars that shine at night…
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there: I did not die.

– Anonymous –

---

Inscription on the Monument of a Newfoundland Dog
by Lord Byron

When some proud son of man returns to earth
Unknown to glory, but upheld by birth,
The sculptur’d art exhausts the art of woe,
And stoned urns record who rest below;
When all is done, upon the tomb is seen,
Not what he was, but what he should have been;
But the poor Dog, in life the firmest friend,
The first to welcome, foremost to defend;
Whose honest heart is still his master’s own,
Who labours, fights, lives, breathes, for him alone
Unhonour’d falls, unnoticed all his worth,
Denied in Heaven the soul he held on earth;
While man, vain insect! hopes to be forgiven,
And claims himself sole exclusive of Heaven!
Oh, man! thou feeble tenant of an hour,
Debas’d by slavery, or corrupt by power,
Who knows thee well, must quit thee with disgust,
Degraded mass of animated dust!
By nature vile, ennobled but by name,
Each kindred brute might bid thee blush for shame.
Ye! who, perchance, behold this single Urn
Pass on–it none you wish to mourn:
To mark a Friend’s remains these stones arise,
I never knew but one, and here he lies.

Newstead Abbey, November 30,1808

NEAR THIS SPOT ARE DEPOSITED THE REMAINS OF ONE
WHO POSSESSED BEAUTY WITHOUT VANITY,
STRENGTH WITHOUT INSOLENCE,
COURAGE WITHOUT FEROCITY
AND ALL THE VIRTUES OF MAN WITHOUT HIS VICES
THIS PRAISE WHICH WOULD BE UNMEANING FLATTERY
IF INSCRIBED OVER HUMAN ASHES
IS BUT A JUST TRIBUTE TO THE MEMORY OF BOATSWAIN,
A DOG WHO WAS BORN AT NEWFOUNDLAND, MAY 1803,
AND DIED AT NEWSTEAD ABBEY, NOVEMBER 18, 1808.